Anyone who says investing in a good pair of boots will save you money in the long term has clearly never been poor.

Udit ‘Diya’ Sen had heard parables that said otherwise more times than he cared to count. It was mostly his father who parroted them whenever he returned home, with holes in his boots or cape. Unfortunately for him, delving into Gaia’s Ark had proven a more expensive affair than he expected.

Supplies, weapons, and tool maintenance took up the bulk of his meagre earnings. In his two years of exploring the tower’s ground floor, Diya had purchased three pairs of boots. Given the damp seeping into his current set, he guessed it wouldn’t be long before he used his scant savings on a fourth. As he felt more of his left shoe’s sole come away, he wondered whether the endeavour was worth it. He wasn’t sure whether he’d seen anything. However, if the climb proved fruitful, it could win him power and access to the tower’s next five floors. Gaia rewarded individuals who unlocked her secrets.

Barely a couple of minutes had passed since he climbed above Cragstone Valley’s canopy and a chill already threatened to creep into his bones. Diya didn’t just need to invest in a good set of boots, but also a decent cloak or coat. He was no stranger to climbing and could deal with the cold. However, wet clothing made everything heavier and traversal a lot more tiring.

Diya paused when a strong gale buffeted him. The wind caught his cloak, swinging him and the rope around wildly. The wet hood stuck to his face, however, and folded inwards, reducing his range of vision.

Baba and Lord Boleyn had both offered to outfit Diya, but he had rejected both offers. They came with hidden costs. Utpal Sen, his father—the man he called Baba—had made a name for himself in New Calcutta as a sword master and one of the best tutors in the city. While a dependant in his care, Diya had spent years serving as a training dummy and sparring partner for Baba’s many students. Accepting the offer would result in a debt and a return to the dreaded position.

Meanwhile, accepting Lord Boleyn’s offer would cause a major change to the current dynamic. Baba served as the Boleyn household’s arms master. As a result, they lived in the lesser noble house’s compound. Even though Diya explored the tower’s ground floor with Lord Boleyn’s three children, he wasn’t technically an employee. The current dynamic let him treat Alexander and Victoria Boleyn as friends. He explored Gaia’s Ark with them on his terms, not theirs.

The damp and cold left Diya questioning his resolve. Since he didn’t need to follow orders, he had the freedom to leave his post, explore, and, as a result, expose himself to the rain. His only responsibility was to the party and their current objective—setting traps for Akarai, the giant man-eating wolf. When Alexander and company returned to the valley, with the monster—hopefully—on their tail, they’d alert him. Till then, he could do whatever his heart desired.

It took a quarter of an hour to complete the climb. Diya’s lips split into an ear-to-ear grin once he stepped into the opening on the cliff face. His eyes hadn’t deceived him.

“I knew it,” he whispered to himself, running a hand over the conical stone marker. Pictograms reminiscent of Egyptian hieroglyphs and almost-Norse runes covered it. A previous visitor had tied a rag just below its peak. It was probably once red, but time and the elements had turned it a dull-faded pink. There was no telling how much time had passed since a previous visitor left it there. According to the Boleyns’ history tutor, prison ships to Australia discovered Gaia’s Ark in the middle of the Indian Ocean around 1737. Just over fifty years had passed since then.

Fortunately, the stone outcropping above shielded it from the rain. If it were wet, Diya probably wouldn’t have spotted it fluttering in the wind while resting in a tree. Because of the outcropping’s shadow, he’d only glimpsed it but chose to take a chance on the sighting. He had little else to do, anyway. The traps were set and there was no telling when the Boleyn party would return.

Before exploring the marker’s surroundings, Diya checked the rope. The grappling hook at its end had caught between a pair of heavy boulders. A test proved the chances of pulling it out were nil. He sighed. A decent replacement would take a chunk out of the delve’s earnings. Diya hoped the marker had something interesting for him, so the effort and cost wouldn’t prove fruitless.

Much to his delight, a cavern lay beyond the marker. He used a light vial to illuminate the grey stone walls, exposing runes, pictograms and carvings in known languages. Diya wasn’t the first climber to find the marker. People in his situation—individuals desperate to earn their soul card—explored every bit of the ground floor. Finding treasure, defeating a powerful beast, or solving one of Gaia’s riddles could potentially earn them their soul card, giving them access to the tower’s next five floors.

Diya had to venture into the cavern until the grey sky was a distant mote before he found something with potential. He didn’t recognise most of the pictograms or understand the tower’s strange, runic language. However, the carvings oddly resembled a map. Among the many shapes, Diya recognised an intricately etched temple and a ravine. Strange flowers, the sun and moon, and other pictograms accompanied it, but he struggled to make sense of them. However, the map-like carvings next to them gave him hope. On average, delvers took three years to unlock their soul card and become a true climber. Diya had almost completed two-thirds of the time and didn’t want to do more.

Always carry a journal, a pen, and an inkwell. You never know what you might find on Gaia’s Ark. Most of the time, you’ll be so busy surviving or hunting for something specific, that you might miss important details or clues left behind by other climbers. Note and copy everything you see. Gaia brought her Ark to our world for a reason. Baba might not care, but it’s up to us to figure it out.

Neer’s words often returned to Diya in snippets. Almost a decade had passed since he disappeared in the mysterious structure. Neither Baba nor his former employer, the Anson family, knew what happened to Neer—or so they claimed. Diya only had the fragments and a stack of immaculately kept diaries to remember his brother. He fished his journal and a fountain pen from his satchel. After copying the pictograms and map, he started on the surrounding runic text too.

“Is that Arabic?” He mumbled, squinting at a patch of runes someone had scrawled across in chalk.

A shift in the pin-drop silence sucked Diya out of his focus. He wasn’t sure whether he’d heard anything at all. However, something told him he wasn’t alone. Baba had spent two decades sharpening his instincts and Neer told him to always trust them in the tower. For the longest time, Diya heard nothing. He let his shoulders relax, but his ears remained alert as the journal and pen slowly returned to the satchel at his side.

That’s breathing.

Diya dropped to his knees and heard something swing through where his neck had been moments ago. A forward roll put distance between him and the attacker. He spun around and rose, clutching a one-handed axe in his right. Meanwhile, the vial in his left cast its dull white light on the assailant.

Troglodytes!

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An axe swing gave Diya the window he needed to backpedal and put the distant patch of sky behind him. According to the bestiaries in the Boleyn library and all climber accounts, Troglodytes lived in the darkness. They only left their cave settlements to hunt and steal once night fell. Diya hoped it was the case for his attackers and none had gotten behind him.

“I’m just exploring, alright?” He kept his voice calm and low. “I’m too skinny for your firepits and am no threat to your village.”

The troglodytes didn’t understand him, of course. Neer’s journals said higher in the tower climbers occasionally encountered specimens with near-human intelligence, but generally, they were ‘as thick as pig shit’. However, a soothing voice would hopefully keep them calm. After all, they were a skittish bunch.

“Good you, hairy cretins,” Diya said, continuing to back away. “Nobody needs to get hurt today. You go your way and I’ll go mine—” The closest of the two troglodytes whooped and charged at Diya. The second spun their sling, adding its sound to the alerting call echoing through the cavern. “Oh, I see how it's going to be! To the depths with you then!”

Diya sacrificed the light vial, throwing the glass container at the charging troglodyte’s feet. It shattered, spraying the floor and the creature with its contents. Both lit up with bright silver flames. It stopped the troglodyte in its tracks as it screeched, beating at the bright light.

“Another bloody cost,” Diya mumbled. He repositioned, putting the panicked troglodyte between himself and the slinger. It wouldn’t be long before the pair realised the flames didn’t burn. The concoction only glowed brighter when exposed to the air. It would go out soon as well, returning the cavern to darkness, and the troglodyte would have the advantage again.

A club-wielding specimen appeared in Diya’s path when he was less than halfway to the stone marker. He didn’t slow. Diya let the troglodyte come at him with its weapon raised high. Then he spun to the side, dodging the attack. His axe head sliced the creature’s side but didn’t bite deep. Killing the creature would only anger its comrades, and they’d probably chase him into the light and down to the trap site.

A chorus of angry whoops sounded behind Diya. More had joined the fray. His wet cloak felt heavy on his shoulders and the damaged sole on his left boot slapped noisily against the cave floor. He hoped the carvings were worth the effort and cost as more troglodytes appeared out of the shadowed ceiling.

Baba is right. I need to pay more attention to my surroundings.

The carvings had got him far too excited. Markers and waypoints were rare, after all.

When a trio of troglodytes blocked his path, Diya gave up on avoiding fatal hits. He skidded under an outstretched stone spear and swung his axe into the wielder’s chest. The sharpened tower-steel weapon cleaved through skin muscle and bone, splattering the other two troglodytes with blood. Diya scrambled between the fatally wounded creature’s legs, rose to his feet, and kicked it into its bigger companion. The remaining club-wielding troglodyte came at Diya, screeching angrily. A brief sidestep and angled axe-haft proved sufficient to parry the blow. As expected of primitive entities, it lacked martial skill and had over-committed to the attack. While it was off balance, the axe head bit into its neck, bringing its darkness-filled life to a swift end.

A rough plan came together in Diya’s head. Stone weapons. Hatred of the light. Cowardice. Short-sighted rage. Troglodytes only posed a threat when outnumbering their opponents in the dark. Even though he would never admit it to Baba, the old man’s constant training had prepared him for such situations. It wasn’t just martial skill he had on his side, but a cool head, too. When Diya continued his sprint to the stone marker, he reminded himself to keep his breathing under control. It was vital for maintaining his focus. Silver light gleamed from the troglodyte corpses, tempting Diya with reward, but he ignored them and continued towards the exit.

Another troglodyte appeared to block his path. Noting its shaky hold on the stone-head spear, Diya didn’t slow. Instead, he dodged the clumsy thrust and jumped, bringing his knee up at the creature's face. Diya missed his mark, but the joint struck its neck, dropping the troglodyte.

Once at the cavern’s mouth, Diya tucked the axe into his belt, grabbed the hanging damp rope, and leapt. The skin on his palm protested as the rough material rapidly slipped through it. Diya clenched his jaw through the pain since slowing the fall took priority. When the descent came to an abrupt stop, he braced himself as the wild swinging resulted in his right shoulder painfully striking the cliff face. Fortunately, the blunt force didn’t drive the air out of his lungs.

When Diya made it to the final third of his descent, the rope jerked. He saw a pair of troglodyte heads above him. They were likely pulling at the grappling hook or hacking at the rope. Diya hoped their stone weapons would fail at the endeavour.

The rain stopped by the time he reached the ground. Blood dripped from his right palm while the left felt burnt and raw. However, a smile spread across Diya’s lips when he looked up. Troglodytes were excellent climbers, but light hurt their eyes. Instead of relying on their hands and feet, they too had opted for the strong rope for their descent.

“Idiots!” He laughed, watching the four flat-faced creatures following him.

Diya pulled back the sleeve on his left arm, revealing three squares. While two of them were dark black, the third appeared grey and faded. Diya held pressed his finger to it and a rectangular card featuring coiled rope grew out of his skin.

“Say goodbye!” He yelled before touching the card to the rope. The length came alive like a massive snake before slithering into the glossy paper. It flowed into the coil, leaving three-dimensional existence behind. Diya leapt back as the screaming troglodytes plummeted to the ground. Only one of them survived the fall, but a swift axe swing drove the life out of its eyes.

Diya looked up. The remaining troglodyte heads had disappeared. He hoped it meant they considered him too much trouble or too dangerous to chase during daylight. He was safe—until nightfall at least.

Grinning from ear to ear, Diya pressed the rope card to his lips and kissed it. Runes, much like the wall carvings, bordered the rectangle’s margins and a big zero sat on the top-left-hand corner. Before he could return the rope card to his tattoo, silver lights glowed from the dead troglodytes. He cautiously kneeled, glancing between the corpses and the opening above, and touched the lights’ sources. His personal side adventure won him two cards.

Before checking them, Diya turned the appendage, shifting his attention to his wrist and sighed. Gaia hadn’t found his survival or method of victory amazing enough to grant him his soul card. The patch of skin between his palm and inner elbow remained tattoo-free. He summoned the card Gaia had gifted him when he first entered the tower on his eighteenth birthday. It was still blank.

The endeavour had still resulted in a reward, so Diya noted the marker’s location in his journal. Ground-floor climbers often unlocked their soul cards while taking out creature nests. Because of the trap site’s remote location, he didn’t worry about someone else finding the troglodytes any time soon. If the current hunt failed to unlock their soul cards, perhaps the Boleyns would consider a nest extermination delve.

Diya’s stomach rumbled. He put some distance between the cliff face and himself before checking the cards. Vengeful troglodytes often dropped boulders on climbers. Both featured zeroes on the top-left-hand corner. Diya didn’t expect troglodytes to drop tier-one cards. It took a moment of focus before the runes transformed into legible words.

Climbing

Instinctively find hand and footholds like a natural-born climber. Climbing is only three-quarters as tiring for the wielder of this card.

Burst of Strength

Rage, determination, or even desperation can draw incredible strength from unlikely sources. The wielder of this card may double their strength for ten seconds once in an hour.

The second card caught Diya off-guard. Spell cards were a rare find at tier-zero. Most offered minor passive effects like the climbing card. Burst of Strength, meanwhile, was an exceptionally rare card. Since one of the two remaining tattoos stored another rope card, he added the new active spell to his deck. The rest disappeared into his coat’s pocket. Diya couldn’t wait for his soul card to take shape. It wouldn’t just give him a unique power and unlock the tower’s upper floors, but increase his deck size by one.

When his stomach rumbled again, Diya fished a length of venison jerky out of his satchel. It didn’t make it to his mouth. A horn bellowed from the valley’s mouth. The first call announced the party’s return. The second warned him of the creature pursuing them. From his raised vantage point, Diya spotted flashes of raised, dirty white fur zipping through the sparse brush. They’d done it. Akarai was in the party’s pursuit.